


Rehabilitation

by sea_pig



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Woodshop, Woodshop AU, more tags will come as i write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-02 02:04:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10934703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_pig/pseuds/sea_pig
Summary: After a hideous incident, Agent Carolina of Project Freelancer is deemed unfit for service. She is sent to rehabilitate herself, in an Earth woodshop where no one knows who she is. For Carolina, it is a punishment. But her new team has secrets, and Carolina may find that she's not as far from Project Freelancer as she thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first chapter fic, and my first posted RvB fic. I would love for everyone to take a stab at it, see what you think?

"Blue!"  
"Red!"  
"Blue!"  
"Red!"  


That was the first thing Carolina heard when she opened the door of her jeep. There was no one in sight, so she took a moment to familiarize herself with the area. 'Recon' a little voice told her. 

It was a long, low building. Sort of like the pictures she'd seen as a kid, of those longhouses that Native Americans lived in. Except instead of being made of sticks and mud, this one was made with steel and iron. The voices were coming from an open garage door on one end of the building, so Carolina closed the driver's side door and got out, tucking her keys into her back pocket. 

She walked slowly around one side of the building, her feet making no sound on the gravel. It was a skill she had picked up after spending most of her life in the military. If Carolina had had her way, she'd still be there, working with her friends, doing her job, the job she was best at. That she loved to do. But no. The Counselor had deemed her 'unfit' for service, and made her take a job at some- some Earth furniture shop?! It was absolute bullshit! She'd practically destroyed the Counselor's office when he told her, so she hadn't exactly heard his reasoning. Some sort of therapy garbage. Carolina clenched her fist in anger thinking about it. She was Agent Carolina! If there was one thing she wasn't, it was unfit for duty. And now she was alone, with nobody. Not her team, not even FILSS to keep her company. That nagging voice in her head reminded her, 'nobody here knows what happened. Nobody here will be able to use it against you' 

That didn't make the loneliness go away, though. 

Carolina turned around the edge of the building to see an older man, back straight and shoulders squared. Obviously military. He wore a red shirt, with a logo on it. Carolina couldn't see the whole thing, but it was probably the same as the one on the wall. 'Blood Gulch Custom Furnishings' in a sort of oval shape, black with 2-D text. The man standing next to him was taller, by about three inches. He was black, with dreads that went past his shoulders. 'Surely those are a safety hazard' Carolina wondered. She decided against asking, not wanting to upset anyone off the bat. North would be proud of her. 

She shut that thought down as quickly as she could. No way was Carolina going to think about her old team. Not here, in this godforsaken dirthole. 

She chose instead to raise her voice slightly, to be heard over the argument that was still going on. "I hate to interrupt such a fruitful discussion," she said, only a little bit sarcastic as they continued to scream 'Red' and 'Blue' at each other. "But I'm looking for-"

Carolina was interrupted by the younger man turning his glare on her. 'Can't you see we're in the middle of something? Jesus Christ." He turned back to his 'friend'. "Blue!"

Carolina waited impatiently, tapping her foot to make a point. After what felt like an hour (Carolina was never known for her patience) someone spoke behind her. 

"Ooh! A new blue! A new friend! Tucker, a new friend!" 

Carolina spun around in shock, already dropping into a fighting stance. It took all her willpower not to attack. How had this- this civilian managed to get the drop on her? He was taller than she was, by almost a foot. He looked... very young. Sixteen, Carolina guessed. She relaxed, standing up straight as what he said registered. He must have been talking about her shirt, which was a pale blue. Aqua, maybe? It was sorta like the color that the one guy had on, the 'blue' guy. 

This new civilian's outburst made the other two stop fighting. One of them must've been Tucker. 

"Woah, a girl?" He asked, like he hadn't just told her to shut up. "And she's a blue! Take that Sarge!" 

Sarge? Was that really his name? Carolina had assumed that the Counselor had made an error, when he told her who the owner of this shop was. What kind of a name was Sarge? The blue guy was definitely Tucker, then.

"Is she a mean girl, or a regular girl?" The kid asked in a stage whisper, and Carolina tried very hard not to roll her eyes.

As she was thinking that, Sarge spoke. "No, no! She's a red! Look at that fiery hair!" He motioned to Carolina's hair, which was, in fact, a hellishly bright red. It had been a bit of teenage rebellion that stuck with her, dying it that color. But now she was 26, and her teenage rebellion days were long behind her. 

"She's a blue!"  
"Red!"  
"Blue!"  
"Red!"

And so the screaming began again. Carolina had a feeling that this was a common occurrence, and she hated the Counselor that much more. It was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolina is given a tour of the shop, and has to make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapters! I've got a few long ones planned as the story picks up, don't worry!

"Any questions?" Sarge asked. He (and Tucker, who refused to leave them alone no matter how many times Sarge told him to get lost) had given Carolina a tour of the shop. Aside from the actual woodworking area there was a finishing room, where they oiled furniture that had been put together already. Tucker had a nice little quip for that ('you can oil me if you like') but had withered under her glare. It seemed like he had a sexual innuendo for every room in the shop, and nothing Carolina could do would make him shut up. Aside from putting his head through the wall, but Carolina was pretty sure that sort of thing was discouraged around here.

There was also the office. It had two wooden desks, probably made in-house. Sarge had mentioned something about the other owner making a delivery, but she didn't pay much attention. Just made note of all the possible exits, all the things she could use as weapons if something happened. There were a good number of useful items, electric saws and sanding machines, things like that. If someone needed information, any tool here would be perfect. 

Carolina balled her fists up at the idea, and realizing that Sarge was waiting for her to answer, she shook her head silently. 

Carolina found it easier to communicate without words, something she had definitely been more prone to after... everything that had happened. The Counselor called it a coping mechanism. The thought of needing to cope at all made Carolina's stomach twist. She was supposed to be a rock. Solid, never changing. But wherever she looked there was another reminder of just how much of a failure she was.

"You're the quiet type, huh?" Sarge asked, a note to his voice that she couldn't place. It seemed more confused than mocking, so she let it go, shrugging just a little. Maine was quiet, too. Strong and silent, someone she could always trust in the field. But she didn't think she could trust anyone now. 

"That's just fine. So is Lopez!" Sarge chuckled, like he had just told a joke. Carolina simply stared at him, not getting it. 

"That's the name of his tractor." Tucker supplied helpfully. Or, it would've been helpful. If he wasn't so annoying. 

"Well, missy. I guess there's just one more question." Sarge continued, digging through a cardboard box under one of the desks. He turned back around, holding up two shirts, a red on and a blue one, exactly like the ones that he and Tucker were wearing. 

"Red or Blue?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment! I'm open to any constructive criticism, and any ideas people have about the fic! 
> 
> I'm in the process of getting a new computer, so everything I'm doing now is on mobile. Which is why if there's any grammar issues, I'd be grateful if you pointed them out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the mission that started (and ended) everything.

-3 years earlier-

"Your mission is to get in, retrieve the package, and get out. Is that clear?"

The Director's voice was so sure, so decisive. Carolina couldn't help the anger that spread through her, even as she nodded. "Yes, sir. But why-" she stopped herself, not wanting to act like South, speaking out of turn. But as the old saying goes 'the genie's out of the bottle'.

"But what, Agent Carolina?" His southern accent became more pronounced in his anger, and Carolina took a step back, meeting his gaze. She'd worked so hard to get rid of that same accent, not wanting anyone to think that she had any relation to the Director. Not wanting to have any ties to him. He preferred it that way, and it was something they both agreed on. She wanted people to know she got where she was by skill, and he didn't want her to be his child. She knew that he hated her, could feel it every time he so much as looked at her. The feeling was mutual. Well, mutual except for the fact that she couldn't stop wanting to please him. Couldn't stop thinking that maybe, maybe if she did better for this mission, or this training sim, he'd realize how good she was.

"Why aren't you sending North and South? They're the team's stealth operatives." Carolina was glad that her helmet hid her face, because it felt red as a ripe strawberry.

"Because Agent South Dakota is too volatile for this mission. I need an agent I can trust." And Carolina was sure that if the Counselor had been there, he might have spun it. Tried to take the Director's words and make them more professional. But it was just Carolina and the Director here, in the MOI hanger, of all places. The whole thing felt a little... uneasy. She assumed this was another test.

"Pelican's gassed up, sir." 479er called from her ship, before Carolina could come up with a good response. She was half hanging out of it, waiting for confirmation to launch. And with a nod from the Director, Carolina jogged over and climbed in the back.

"Let's get this junk heap moving." She called to the front.

"Oh no," 479er replied from the pilot's seat. "You did not just insult my baby!"

"You can reprimand me when we're in the air." Carolina remarked, briefly wondering if it was still considered 'the air' when there was no actual air in space.

"I'll be sure to do that." 479er snarked, and Carolina imagined that she was rolling her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolina learns the name of her other 'boss', and Simmons considers a new career choice.

"Do you ever wonder why we're here?" Simmons asked, from his spot next to Carolina. He was currently teaching her how to properly sand with a pneumatic sander. It was a very simple process, but he felt the need to hover over here while she moved the device in small circles around the board. She shrugged, wondering where he was going with this.

"I wonder why I'm here." She retorted, not looking up at him.Carolina knew that she had to suffer through these idiots, at least until the Counselor decided she was ‘healthy’. So talking to her coworkers, even if she didn’t want to, was something she had to do. It was part of her mission. Didn’t mean that she enjoyed it. That fact seemed to be lost on Simmons, given that if someone didn’t say something every five seconds, he immediately jumped in with his worthless banter. It had Carolina imagining the board she was working on as Simmons’ face.

If the Director hadn't urged her to take this, to go back to Earth, she would've been far away already. But she'd never disobeyed an order before. And even though he had made it seem like a ‘light suggestion’, any Freelancer would’ve been able to tell it was anything but.

"Yeah, why are you here?” Simmons jumped onto her reply, desperate to engage with her. Or at least fill what he took as an awkward silence. “You don't seem like you enjoy working here that much, and you don't know anything. No offense," he added quickly. "But-But it's true."

"I suppose I just needed a change of pace." She bit out, the lie forming easily.

"Oh, like a mid-life crisis? I've had tons of those." Simmons laughed nervously, deciding to change the subject. "So... are you excited to meet Church?"

"Who?" She spun around the face him, the sander still gripped in her hand. The air hose tangled awkwardly around her hips, but Carolina was too focused on Simmons to notice, or care.

"Church...?" Simmons squeaked out. "He's the other owner. The-the blue one?" He backed up, actually scared that she'd hurt him. He screamed a little as she grabbed him by the collar, yanking his feet off the ground as she pulled him back towards her. Carolina would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it. 

But before she could continue grilling him for information, Sarge’s head popped in from the office door. “Carolina, don’t scare my men! That’s my job!” He snapped at her, then shut the door with a loud bang, not actually waiting around to see if she dropped him, which she did, of course. After waiting a few seconds to glare at Simmons and the door to the office. 

“What an effective leader.” She commented sarcastically, as Simmons bolted for the door that led outside.She let him run, and continued sanding.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments! I love constructive criticism. What you liked about it, what you didn't like. Grammar, things like that. What sort of interactions or ideas would you like to see? I'd love to hear what you guys want from this fic!


End file.
